Date Night With Ron And Mallory
by Red Witch
Summary: Ron should have known that Mallory Archer never takes a night off. Not when there's money and contacts to be made for the agency. And Mallory should have known that nothing ever goes according to plan.


**The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters was stolen by Mallory again. Just something that came into my head about a night out with my favorite dysfunctional couple. And I'm not talking about Archer and Lana.**

 **Date Night With Ron And Mallory **

"Why do you always drag me to these damn things?" Ron grumbled. He was wearing a white tuxedo as they walked down the street.

"Why do you always have to complain?" Mallory shot back. She was wearing a fancy black dress with her pearls.

"Because I'm the shmuck who usually has to pay for everything," Ron told her.

"You certainly wouldn't pay for a limo or even a damn cab!" Mallory snapped. "Forcing me to walk on the street like a common street person!"

Ron threw up his hands. "This joint isn't even two blocks away from your office. It's cheaper to walk. And considering how your finances are I'm trying to save some money before you bleed me dry."

"Some things are more important than money," Mallory glared at him.

"Yeah like self-respect. Which sometimes I wonder where mine has gone," Ron grumbled. "Again why are we going to some fancy joint where neither of us hardly knows anyone?"

"First of all Zenith isn't a _joint_ ," Mallory sniffed disdainfully. "It is the newest upscale restaurant which specializes in modern fusion cuisine!"

"I'd be happier with the cuisine down at Hannigan's Bar," Ron grumbled. "It's free buffalo wing night. And they don't give you one or two measly wings, oh no! They practically give you a bucket full!"

"I'm not even going to respond to **that** ," Mallory sniffed again.

"And yet you just did," Ron quipped.

"Secondly I do know someone at this party," Mallory said. "Joan Vagner."

Ron tried to remember. "Wasn't she the dame that was in Europe to get liposuction and ended up staying there for three years because the surgery got screwed up?"

"No," Mallory corrected. "She was in Sweden having an experimental face peel and had an unfortunate reaction. And she's been there for four years but her skin has grown back and she looks better than ever now."

"Uh huh…" Ron said wondering what Mallory was up to. "And I'm guessing since this Joan person doesn't really know about all the gossip that's been going on about us?"

"Well I wouldn't be lying if I said she wasn't a tiny bit out of the loop of my regular social circle," Mallory waved. "But that's mostly because she runs with a newer, younger hipper crowd."

"And what exactly does this Joan Vagner do or should I ask **who** she does?" Ron quipped.

"Don't be so disgusting! Joan's been a widow for years," Mallory huffed.

"So who does she do?"

"I'm serious Ron! She owns several high fashion magazines and surrounds herself with talented young artists and many wealthy business owners," Mallory said.

"In other words you're looking at some more chickens to pluck for your crackpot agency," Ron groaned. "I should have known!"

"You're always complaining about how my agency doesn't bring in enough money!" Mallory snapped. "By ingratiating myself with Joan and her circle of friends I can make some decent contacts. And get some lucrative work."

"What the hell is a spy agency that can barely keep a secret going to do for a bunch of dressmakers?" Ron asked.

"High fashion! And have you ever heard of corporate espionage?" Mallory gave him a look.

"Have **you** ever heard of the Economic Espionage Act?" Ron asked her back. "Because you might want to read up on that before embarking on another harebrained scheme."

Mallory protested. "This isn't a scheme! It's networking!"

"Oh boy this is gonna be the cocaine debacle with the CIA all over again isn't it?" Ron groaned. "This is why I put my lawyer's number on speed dial!"

"And on top of it all we get to dine at one of New York's newest and most exclusive restaurants," Mallory went on. "Trudy Beekman can't even get a reservation here!"

" **There** it is!" Ron rolled his eyes. "What exactly did Trudy Beekman do to you? How did this crazy feud get started?"

"Oh who remembers?" Mallory waved. "We're here."

"Geeze it looks like someone ate a lot of grape jam and threw up on the sign," Ron remarked as he looked upwards at the gaudy sign above them.

"It's part of the theme of Zenith," Mallory waved. "Zenith means new and exciting and the pinnacle of excellence!"

Ron gave her a look. "It's the name of a TV set."

"Shut up and behave yourself or so help me…" Mallory growled as they went in.

Mallory's tone changed quickly when she saw a short haired blonde older woman in a bright red dress. "Joan!"

"Mallory!" Joan's face was plastered in a weird smile. She moved up and made air kisses with Mallory.

"Joan darling this is my husband Ron," Mallory twittered. "He's the biggest Cadillac salesman in the tri-state area!"

"Really?" Joan asked.

"Seven dealerships and working on an eighth," Ron smirked. "I run a **very successful** business."

Mallory ignored the dig. "I'm just so glad that you invited me!"

"Well we don't see each other enough," Joan said. "We so need to catch up! I'm just glad you were able to come!"

"Oh it's just a pleasure to get out of the house every now and then," Mallory waved. "Especially that I'm now a new grandmother."

"I've heard something about that," Joan said. "Is it true that she's biracial?"

"Well…" Mallory began.

"That is so wonderful!" Joan said.

"Isn't it?" Mallory said quickly. "Of course some of the women in the Ladies' League are a bit up in arms about that…"

"Ugh don't remind me about those racist uptight biddies," Joan sniffed.

"I know. Some people are so small minded," Mallory said. "But it's such a joy to spend time with my sweet little granddaughter."

"You? HA! **I'm** the one who spends most of my time with Abbiejean!" Ron scoffed.

"Abbiejean? That's her name? How exotic!" Joan twittered.

"Isn't it?" Mallory grinned. Ron did a double take at her.

"It's so refreshing to find someone else who enjoys young minds and the spirit of youth as much as I do," Joan said. "Not like those stodgy old people like Trudy Beekman."

"I know. She's so…well…Set in her ways," Mallory said.

"Exactly," Joan agreed. "So obsessed with money, elitism and status. I'm so glad you're not like her."

To this Ron made a chuckle. Mallory sort of subtly hit him in the chest with her elbow. "Ow!" Ron snapped.

"That's why I prefer to work with young people," Mallory lied quickly. "So unconcerned about trivial things like that. Uh do you know Cheryl Tunt?"

"I've heard of her but never really met her," Joan admitted. "She's the one with the railroads right? And the trains?"

"Yes but she's a bright and inquisitive woman," Mallory said. "She's a close associate of mine. Always looking into new and exciting ventures."

"Yeah like she's really into glue," Ron chuckled.

"Production!" Mallory said quickly. "New non-toxic formulas. All those sort of things."

"That's so fascinating. By the way what exactly is it that you **do?** " Joan asked. "I know you run an office of some kind but I'm not sure what it does."

"Oh I do a lot of things," Mallory waved. "Papers. Files. Sales. Records. Travel. It's pretty boring actually. A lot of boring meetings with people…"

"Like the CIA, the Yakuza…" Ron quipped. "South American dictators…"

"Oh Ron! You're so funny!" Mallory laughed. "That's my husband! Can never **stop** **joking around**!"

"Yeah I'm a **laugh riot** ," Ron gave Mallory a look. "Just like this one. **Can't believe** some of the things that come out of **her mouth."**

Mallory made a laugh. "Oh you! That's sort of our thing."

"Apparently a lot of things are your thing," Ron quipped.

"I am so glad you were able to come tonight," Joan said as she took Mallory's hand. "I'm looking for more people to help me in my charitable work."

"What sort of charitable work?" Mallory asked.

"I have so many," Joan twittered. "Wetlands preservation. Environmental preservation…"

"Oh you should talk to Lana! The mother of my grandchild!" Mallory saw an opportunity. "She just **loves** the environment!"

"Shih Tzu Rescue…" Joan added.

"The **what?** " Ron did a double take.

"She means the **dog** ," Mallory clarified. "S-H-I-H. Not the **other** spelling."

"Those little long haired fancy dogs rich people buy?" Ron asked. "The ones that look like little mops? Do they even **need** rescuing?"

"You have no idea!" Joan waved.

"What about greyhounds? Now **that's** a dog that needs rescuing," Ron spoke up. "Particularly some of the losers at the track I've bet on."

"And of course the Gay, Lesbian and Bisexual Coalition!" Joan said.

"Oh of course. We have a gay at our office and he is just **lovely** ," Mallory went on. "Ray and I are so close we're like two peas in a pod."

"Since **when?** " Ron did a double take. Once again Mallory elbowed him. "Ow! What do you do? Sharpen your elbows with some kind of elbow sharpener?"

"And of course there's Pam who's…something," Mallory added. "So yes I have a very diverse crowd at my office."

"That's not the adjective you usually use to describe them," Ron remarked.

"And of course the charity so dear to my heart," Joan beamed. "The Pan Irish American Alliance. Preserving and celebrating Irish culture and friendly relations with our two countries."

To her credit Mallory's smile didn't even falter. "Really? That's fascinating."

Ron made a sinister laugh. "Very fascinating. I know how much you **love** the Irish Mallory."

"Well who could hate the Irish?" Joan asked.

"Who indeed?" Ron was clearly enjoying himself as he grinned at Mallory.

"You must come to our Irish Festival next week!" Joan said. "We have real Celtic music and singers as well as readings of Irish Poetry!"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Mallory skillfully lied through her teeth.

"Wonderful! Oh we have a private dining area just through there! I just have to say hello to Barbara!" Joan said as someone else entered. "BARBARA! DARLING!" She swooned over to her next guest leaving Mallory and Ron.

"And the Oscar for the Best Actress in the Role of a Kiss Ass goes to…" Ron quipped.

"So help me Ron I'll slug you…" Mallory hissed under her breath so only Ron could hear.

"This night is looking up already," Ron remarked as they made their way to the private dining room.

"The **sacrifices** I make for my agency…" Mallory groaned. "Not that any of those ingrates appreciate it! Especially Sterling!"

"He's a grown man! Cut the cord already!" Ron told her.

"Don't think I haven't been tempted to do so," Mallory grumbled. "If only to see him crawl back on his knees to Mother!"

"Give the kid some credit," Ron said. "He might surprise you."

"And maybe one day pigs will fly and give out free bacon sandwiches but I wouldn't hold my breath!" Mallory hissed.

"Bacon sounds pretty good. What kind of food does this joint serve again?" Ron asked.

Mallory shrugged as they entered the private dining room. "It's modern fusion."

"What does **that** mean?"

"It means whatever the hell the chef wants it to be!" Mallory snapped. "Besides we didn't come here for the food."

"Tell that to my stomach," Ron grumbled.

They looked around at the crowd of people in the dining room. Most of them were much younger than the two of them and had seemed to form their own little cliques. Several of them were dressed brightly and oddly.

Ron looked at one person in a bright silver dress. "Is that a guy or a girl?" He whispered to his wife.

"Doesn't matter. Just mimic whatever pronoun that person uses. Or pretend that it's Gillette," Mallory growled. "At least that's what I'm doing."

"Oh this is gonna be fun crowd," Ron grumbled to himself. Turning to Mallory he whispered. "Have you noticed we're the oldest ones here?"

"So?" Mallory whispered back. "I'm the oldest one at my agency! I'm used to being around immature minds all day!"

"Yeah but here you can't insult them and threaten to throw 'em in a pit somewhere," Ron warned him.

"Not a pit. A cell at a black site," Mallory corrected. "But you do have a point. I'd better watch my tongue."

"And we all know how great you are at **that** ," Ron groaned.

"I'll have you know that I am well known for being not only a gracious host but a perfect guest with impeccable manners," Mallory sniffed.

She got to the table and she saw where Joan was going to sit. There was a young woman about to sit next to Joan. "Move it!" Mallory hissed as she shoved the woman away when Joan's attention was somewhere else.

"AAAH!" The young woman stumbled and fell to the floor.

"Oh dear, you fell…" Mallory smoothly sat next to Joan. "Must be those high heels."

"Oh boy…." Ron groaned as he sat next to Mallory and watched the woman get up. "Here we go…"

"Oh uh Mallory!" Joan realized Mallory was next to her. "Have you met Christophe? He's up and coming fashion designer!"

"Hello Dah-lings!" A twenty something young man with fashionably coiffed hair, a bright pink suit with a pink bow tie waved at them from Joan's left side. "So nice to meet you!"

"How lovely to meet you too," Mallory said in a very polite tone.

"I should have brought Gillette," Mallory grumbled under her breath to her husband the second Joan and Christophe's attention was diverted by some conversation. "He would have been more use than you!"

"That's the first thing we've agreed on all night," Ron gave her a look.

He then noticed the young woman on his other side. The one Mallory had so rudely shoved aside. She was a red haired woman wearing bright flowery clothes and looked a little out of it. "Hi!" She said breathlessly. "I'm Heidi!"

"I'm Ron."

"I like your aura," She said in a strangely sweet voice.

"I like yours," Ron played along.

"So sparkly…" She giggled.

"Oh goody…" Ron groaned.

He turned to his wife and whispered. "What kind of freak show did you drag me to this time?"

"Shut up!" Mallory hissed at him.

"Just saying if I wanted to spend time with crazy people, I'd go to your office!" Ron hissed in her ear.

Then Ron noticed the menus. "Geeze I don't recognize half of this stuff on the menu. Glorp Glop? What the hell is Glorp Glop? And why is it fifty bucks?"

"Ron it's only money," Mallory tittered realizing Joan heard that.

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one paying!" Ron told her.

Just then a snooty looking waiter came up to the table. "Bonjour to Zenith! New York's best and most exclusive fusion cuisine restaurant!"

"Oh goody a real French waiter," Mallory remarked sarcastically. "Great."

"Yes Zenith is truly a name that best describes the spirit of the youth of today!" The French waiter said proudly.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Again, it's the name of a TV set. Enough said!"

"Tonight we have our chef's special for the entire table!" The waiter pointed to the menu. "Where you put yourself completely in his hands."

"Jesus Christ look at the price tag on this!" Ron said out loud. "Who's making this dinner? Wolfgang Puck and the Pope?"

"The chef's special for the entire table!" Joan said cheerfully.

"Excellent Madame!" The waiter beamed and went off.

"Where's the wine list?" Mallory asked.

"Oh the wine is chosen for the meal specifically," Joan explained. "It will come out during the main course."

"If you're thirsty Mallory there's plenty of water," Christophe said. "Don't worry it's not tap. It's directly prepared from Fiji."

"Oh joy…" Mallory held her smile. "I'm good."

"I don't think you've met some of my other guests," Joan realized. "That's Heidi Hieldless, next to you Ron. She works in modern art acquisitions for the Metropolitian Art Gallery. And quite the famous artist herself."

"No surprises there," Ron remarked as Heidi was giggling to herself.

"Doctor Leia Liani and her husband Dr. Kristoff Krenshaw," Joan introduced a few other couples. "They do a lot of charitable work on Doctors Within Borders."

"I think I've heard of that one," Mallory said.

"Esteemed fashion artists Jojo, Melanie Mare, Fredrick Fredrickson, Gregor Grenton…" Joan introduced several people dressed wildly and oddly. "Barbara Benton and her husband Denton. Edina Jackson editor of Head Magazine."

"What?" Ron did a double take. "What kind of magazine is **that**?"

"Modern art and fashion darling…" Edina said. She was dressed all in black with triangular black hair with black sunglasses.

"Oh because I was thinking a completely different thing," Ron admitted.

"Phillip Penn, lifestyle freelance writer," Joan kept introducing. "And Vanessa Von Vanderbilt."

"Of the Hampton Von Vanderbilt's?" Mallory perked up. "The ones with the hotel chain?"

"Oh God no!" A tall blonde woman in a red dress giggled. "I just changed my name because I bought a house on the East End and it has the engraving Von Vanderbilt. It sounds so much more exciting and interesting than Smith."

"Oh well you're not wrong there," Mallory was furious on the inside but didn't show it. "So no relation to the Von Vanderbuilts at all?"

"None. Haven't you heard? The Von Vanderbilts moved out of New York completely," Joan waved. "Apparently there was some scandal involving one of their restaurants they backed. Sez or something. With that chef that murdered the Albanian Ambassador."

"Oh right," Mallory remembered.

"Definitely not one of our better date nights," Ron admitted.

"And if that wasn't bad enough there was some other scandalous incident with their daughter," Joan added. "I don't know all the details…"

"I do. Apparently she was found wandering outside a hospital stoned out of her mind!" Philip spoke quickly. He was wearing a sharp grey suit that seemed to clash with his pale blond hair. "She was babbling on and on about a cartoon Japanese woman and a goat creature. As well as something about a werewolf woman and Hitler clones in a laundromat."

"Oh yes…" Mallory then remembered **another** incident. "I remember now…"

FLASHBACK!

A few years ago…

"Sterling Mallory Archer how could you bring in one of your whores in off the street into Krieger's lab?" Mallory shouted at her son in Krieger's lab. "What part of this is a **secret** intelligence agency do you not understand? The secret part or the intelligence part?"

"Obviously both," Lana folded her arms as she stood next to Mallory.

"Shut up Lana!" Archer frowned. "In the first place Mother, she's not one of my whores. I didn't pay for her. I just met her at a bar and I haven't slept with her yet so technically…"

"So what?" Lana asked. "You thought you could prove you're a spy so she would just drop her panties and let you screw her?"

"That was pretty much the plan," Archer admitted.

"AAAAAHHH!" A young blonde woman in a white dress and high heels ran for her life. She was being chased by Krieger's virtual girlfriend and a grey goat with glowing red eyes.

"I'M A WEREWOLF! OWWWWWOOOOOOOO!" Cheryl also ran after her wearing only a bra and panties.

"In hindsight taking her to Krieger's lab was probably not the best idea," Archer admitted.

"You **think?"** Mallory shouted. "Oh wait I forgot! You **don't**!"

"OWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"That werewolf thing is still going on huh?" Lana asked.

"OWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Yup," Archer said.

"Why does she think she's a werewolf again?" Lana asked.

"God only knows!" Mallory grumbled. "Maybe that stupid ocelot bit her or something?"

"That makes no sense! Then she'd be a were-cat! Not a werewolf!" Archer told his mother.

"OWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOO!"

"That's a **thing**?" Mallory asked.

"It is a thing," Archer told her. "You've never seen any of the Cat People movies?"

"OWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Again those characters in those movies were **born** were-cats!" Lana explained. "Well technically were-panthers. They were always like that. They weren't bitten."

"Oh right. I forgot," Archer frowned. "Besides that franchise never really caught on. I think it was the incest thing that turned people off."

"Usually does," Lana sighed.

"BAAAAAAHHH!"

ZZZAAPPPP!

"GOATLEY TWO AND A HALF NO!" Krieger shouted as he chased after them with a tranquilizer gun. "THIS WILL HURT YOU MORE THAN IT WILL HURT ME!"

"Just wonderful!" Mallory grumbled. "Just once I'd like to go through a whole month without some kind of rampage in this office!"

"Well technically this is the lab so…" Archer corrected.

"SHE BIT ME ! OWWWWW!" The young woman screamed. "AAAHH!"

"Don't worry! She's not really a werewolf so you won't change!" Archer called out.

ZIPP!

"YEOW! YOU SHOT ME IN THE ASS!" The young woman shouted.

"Gotcha! Ooh! Sorry!" Krieger called out. "My bad!"

"Krieger get your pets and Cheryl under control!" Mallory shouted. "Lana you know the drill. Drug up Sterling's little friend so she'll think this is nothing more than a drug induced hallucination and dump her somewhere downtown."

"HELP ME! GET HER OFF! GET HER OFF!" The woman screamed.

"Why do I have to do it?" Lana barked. "Archer's the one who brought her here!"

"Because obviously I can't ask Sterling to do it or else we'll get another attempted rape charge!" Mallory snapped.

"Mother! I'd never do that!" Archer gasped.

"How soon we forget our last trip to Vegas!" Mallory rolled her eyes.

"Simone asked me to drug her! She said it was her medication!" Archer shouted.

"Who uses expired LSD as medication?" Lana barked.

"That was a little odd," Archer frowned. "But we're talking about attempted rape charges may I remind you about that little incident with the Admiral?"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" The young woman screamed.

"DIE GAJIN TRAMP!" Krieger's Virtual Girlfriend shouted.

"He was giving me all the signs that he wanted me!" Mallory shouted.

"Yeah he wanted you to leave his cabin!" Archer barked. "What part of No didn't you understand Mother? The N or the O?"

Mallory waved. "Look this isn't about me!"

"Conveniently," Archer quipped.

"Shut up!" Mallory snapped.

"AAAAAAHHHHH!"

"You too!" Mallory shouted at the woman. "Lana take care of her and make sure there's enough drugs in her so that she forgets what she saw!"

"I'm not drugging one of Archer's random victims!" Lana barked.

"Dates!" Archer corrected.

"Same difference!" Lana barked.

"Fine! Krieger!" Mallory shouted.

"On it!" Krieger called out.

ZIPP! ZIPP! ZIPP! ZIPP! ZIPP! ZIPP!

"Oooohhh…" The woman moaned.

Krieger walked up to them. "Uh I think I might have overdone it. You might want to bring her to the hospital."

"Yeah thanks a lot Krieger!" Cheryl stormed up to him. "If you want something done right you have to do it yourself!"

Cheryl then grabbed the tranquilizer gun and shot herself in the neck. "Oh yeah that's the good stuff!" She giggled as she fell on the floor.

"Uhh…" Krieger blinked.

"Her you can leave on the floor," Mallory grumbled.

FLASHFORWARD!

"Yes, that is all coming back to me now…" Mallory winced.

"I don't think I want to **know** any more of this story," Ron groaned.

"Trust me. You **don't,"** Mallory sighed.

"Vanessa and I work on a lot of charities," Joan went on, clearly oblivious to the subtext. "In particular Wings of Whimsy."

"Wings of Whimsy?" Mallory asked.

"Yes. It's a global charity whose goal is to lift up the spirits and bring happiness into the lives of the poor and downtrodden all over the world," Vanessa said. "By bringing them things like balloons, bounce houses, and confetti!"

"Of course," Mallory said. "Why bother with such boring mundane things like food, clothing and shelter?"

"Bounce houses? Wait I've **heard** of this!" Ron spoke up. "It was on the news. Wasn't that the one where they set up their first bounce house somewhere in Africa when a windstorm kicked up? And then it flew away with a bunch of orphans in it?"

"Well yes…There was a slight kerfuffle…" Joan admitted.

"And then when it landed the orphans got eaten by lions and…" Ron went on.

"Ron I don't think we need to go over all the exact details!" Mallory told her husband.

"Isn't there a major lawsuit against that charity because of the bounce house thing?" Ron asked loudly. "And the lions eating the orphans?"

"Ron they're orphans! It's not like there aren't a million others on that continent!" Mallory snapped. "And the odds are some animal was going to eat one or two anyway…"

"Oh look! The first course is coming!" Joan said in a relieved tone as several waiters arrived with plates.

"Finally! I'm starving!" Ron said.

"Yes it's past time **something** was in your mouth other than your foot," Mallory grumbled.

"First course! Roasted edamame beans slightly drizzled in honey soy sauce," The French waiter said as the plates were presented in front of them.

Mallory looked at the plate in front of her. Three green beans surrounded by something light brown in delicate swirls. "How…interesting," She said diplomatically.

Ron grumbled in disbelief. "Three beans? Even Jack got more than that when he traded in his cow!"

"Shut up!" Mallory hissed in his ear. "It is an eleven course meal."

"Well the other ten better be pretty big ass spectaculars that's all I'm saying," Ron hissed back.

"Hello little beans," Heidi giggled as she talked to her food. "Hello!"

"What's her problem?" Ron asked Joan as he pointed to Heidi. "Besides a possible concussion?"

Joan shrugged. "Heidi is very creative and sensitive. And…on some mild antidepressants."

"Looks like whatever she's taking is working," Ron quipped as Heidi giggled wildly.

After some very awkward conversation it wasn't long until the second course came out.

"Second course! An eggshell full of hope and whimsy," The French waiter said as more plates were placed on the table. "And a single gelatin bean of caramel."

"An empty egg with a jelly bean?" Ron blinked. "I know what this is full of and it's ain't hope and whimsy kids!"

"Ha, ha, ha…" Mallory politely laughed as she took a spoon to try and eat the jelly bean.

"You use the egg shell like a cup Mallory, dear," Joan instructed.

"Of course…" Mallory did so. "Speaking if cups. Can I have some wine now?"

"It's not time for the main course Mallory," Joan said. "Which reminds me you said your office does some kind of travel thing?"

"Oh yes," Mallory beamed, quickly coming up with a lie. "One of our many services our office provides is high end travel accommodations."

"Since when?" Ron asked.

"My staff and I have been all over the world….What the hell do you think you're doing?" Mallory did a double take and glared at Ron.

Ron had taken some crackers out of his pocket and was trying to get the wrapper off with his teeth. "What? I'm hungry!"

"Will you put the damn crackers away?" Mallory snapped a little louder than she intended.

"What?" Ron snapped.

"Eat your food and quit embarrassing me!" Mallory hissed.

"What am I doing?" Ron snapped. "Besides not having any dinner?"

"This is how we got kicked out of the opera! And the theater! And that art gallery!" Mallory fumed.

"Why do you always insist on taking me to these fancy schmancy places that don't have anything to eat?" Ron snapped.

"Why do you always insist on being an uncultured slob?" Mallory shot back.

"Keep it up Sweetheart I'm gonna call **you** a few things!" Ron snapped.

"Uh is everything all right?" Joan blinked.

"Oh of course. Everything's fine," Mallory purred. "Why do you ask?"

"I got the wrapper off! Yes!" Ron cheered as he had his crackers. Mallory whacked them out of his hand. "Hey! That's how you get ants!"

"I'd like to get some wine around here!" Mallory grumbled.

"Third course! A mini Kobe burger on a homemade basil biscuit," The French waiter said as a tiny beef patty on a small biscuit the size of a cracker was served. "Topped with pesto and red pepper aioli."

"I've seen bigger portions in a Happy Meal," Ron remarked. "And the food was probably better too."

"Shut up!" Mallory hissed in his ear. Out loud she said. "Uh where is the wine?"

"Oh yeah I'm embarrassing **you!** " Ron rolled his eyes.

"Happy! Happy! Happy!" Heidi giggled next to him.

"I don't know what you're on Heidi but can I have some?" Ron asked.

Soon the waiters arrived for the next course.

"Fourth course! A single buckwheat noodle!" The waiter said as the plate was placed before them.

"I've had some buddies that were prisoners of war and even the Japs gave them more than this!" Ron grumbled.

Mallory admonished her husband. "Ron don't call them that!"

"What?" Ron gave her a look. "Compared to what **you** usually call them…"

"Oh where is that wine?" Mallory asked in a loud tone. Then she decided to change the subject. "Joan dear…You haven't told me about any other charities or organizations you work with. Like what they're about or if they need any **help** …"

"How are you going to help them?" Ron asked.

"I won't know until I **ask** now will I?" Mallory snapped.

"Well the Pan Irish American Alliance can always use help," Joan said. "I'll send you some brochures. And they always could use a generous donation."

"Again, **wine!"** Mallory shouted. "Hello!"

"Main course," Joan said. "Remember? Oh come on Mallory. It's not like you need alcohol every minute of the day."

"Wow you really don't know her well do you Joan?" Ron snorted.

He then noticed Heidi picking one of the flowers from the vase in the center of the table. Then she ate it.

"Flowers are yummy…"Heidi giggled.

"Can't say I blame you," Ron groaned. "Might be the only way to get a decent meal in this joint."

"Fifth course!" The waiter called out. "Shaved lemon ice to cleanse the pallet."

"Cleanse what pallet? We've barely eaten anything!" Ron grumbled as the plates were set before them.

"We're at the fifth course already and still **no wine?"** Mallory's voice was even louder. "Seriously? Who does a woman have to murder around here to get some?"

"Are we cleansing the air? Because that's all I've tasted all night!" Ron added.

"I haven't tasted any wine!" Mallory added.

"The wine is coming with the main course," Joan explained. "I've said that three times."

"Well when **is** the main course?" Mallory was getting annoyed.

"Seventh course," Joan said. "Trust me. It's worth the wait."

"It better be," Mallory grumbled.

"Oh yeah this is **way better** than sitting at home watching the game and having a pizza!" Ron grumbled.

"Keep it up Ron and you'll be home alone **every night**!" Mallory snapped.

"Don't make promises you won't keep!" Ron snapped. "Oh wait you already have."

"Just what is **that** supposed to mean?" Mallory glared at her husband.

Ron gave her a look. "You promised on our wedding day that there'd be no secrets between us. Boy did you snow me on **that** one!"

"This is not about Len Trexler is it? I told you! It's been over for ages!" Mallory shouted.

"You should have told me you were going to marry the guy!" Ron shot back.

"How did you…? Pam told you didn't she?" Mallory snapped.

"Yeah. Along with a few other interesting facts about your other **old boyfriends**!" Ron gave her a look.

"Never fails! Three instant ways of communication!" Mallory grumbled. "Telephone. Television. Tell Pam!"

"When a guy has to ask someone else the truth about his wife that's a huge red flag!" Ron grumbled.

"Oh put a sock in it Ron!" Mallory snapped. She then noticed she was getting looks from the table. "What are you looking at? Haven't you ever seen a married couple have a discussion before?"

"Sixth course…" The French waiter announced. "Salad!"

"Ah I could go for…" Mallory began then she saw the plate before her. Three purple leaves and six green ones with something yellow dotted on them. "Salad?"

"A rabbit could starve on this," Ron groaned as he picked at it.

"Just shut up and eat," Mallory ordered.

"Eat _what?_ " Ron asked.

"Just eat!" Mallory snapped as she picked up a fork.

"I wish I could," Ron ate it all in one mouthful. "One good thing about this place. If you're on a diet you'll never gain weight."

"So what exactly do you do Mr. Cadillac?" Philip asked.

"I run the biggest Cadillac car dealership in the whole tristate area," Ron said proudly.

 **"Cadillacs?"** One of the other women at the table winced in disgust. "Those gas guzzling monstrosities?"

"I sell other cars too," Ron said. "But that is my biggest seller."

"Do you have any idea how much toxic emissions emerge from a high priced car like that?" Another woman gasped in horror.

"Honey if they made cars that ran on rainbows and sunshine I'd sell 'em," Ron gave her a look. "But since they don't…"

"But what about smaller, cleaner emission cars and those that run on electricity?" Vanessa asked.

"Oh you mean the crap I can't unload to save my life?" Ron snorted. "And where exactly would you get the energy to run these electric cars? Fantasyland?"

"HA!" Mallory laughed.

"You think that's **funny?** " Joan was appalled.

"Yes. And rather accurate," Mallory waved. "Oh come on Joan. This is America, not some socialist European backwater. People always want bigger better cars."

"But what about the environment?" Vanessa asked.

"Oh please!" Mallory snorted. "And what do **you** care about the environment? I mean those stupid bounce houses you tried to pan off in Africa have enough plastic in them to toxify a whole village!"

"Exactly," Ron agreed. "You guys say that you care about the environment and the poor but honestly all you're doing is throwing money at the problem in hopes that it will solve itself. Doesn't work like that."

"But those cars…" Vanessa sputtered.

"Are **American** made!" Ron spoke up. "Okay they're also made in China too but everything else is also made in China so...But still the ones made here bring jobs and booster the economy. And fifty will get you a hundred that my gas guzzlers have done more good than all your fancy charities combined! So put **that** in your bounce house and flip it!"

"HA!" Mallory gloated. "He's got you there Vanessa Von Fake-o!"

"Seventh course, the main course!" The French waiter said proudly as more food arrived.

"Finally some **real food**!" Ron groaned.

"Finally some **real wine**!" Mallory added.

"A glazed game hen wing in honey turmeric barbecue sauce with a bit of mustard peppercorn glaze," The French waiter spoke.

"Is this chicken wing or a sparrow wing?" Mallory grumbled to herself as she saw the meal before her. It was a very tiny wing. On a very tiny plate.

"This is a joke right?" Ron growled loudly. "Because I'm telling you right now I ain't laughing."

"Ron please…" Mallory hissed between her teeth.

"You think I'm paying six hundred smackers for a main course that wouldn't feed a pigeon you're out of your mind!" Ron snapped.

"Sir. The chef himself chose the highest quality ingredients for…" The French waiter began.

"Listen Frenchy La French, you may fool most of these other suckers at this table but I know a con when I see one," Ron interrupted. "I have some friends in the restaurant business and they told me all about this type of scam."

"Ron! I hardly think your friend that pushes a hot dog cart down at Times Square is an expert!" Mallory shouted.

"He owns half the hot dog carts in the city as well as a few other food trucks," Ron gave her a look. "He told me all about how places like this charge an arm and a leg for just a small measly amount of food for dumb asses who have more money than brains!"

"Ron you're embarrassing me!" Mallory shouted.

"I'm embarrassed that you of all people are dumb enough to fall for this!" Ron snapped.

"Just eat your God damn chicken wing and…What the hell is **this?** " Mallory did a double take when a tiny glass was placed in front of her. It was the size of a thimble and held a drop of something.

"Your wine Madame," The French waiter said.

"Where's the rest of the wine?" Mallory blinked.

"That is all the wine you need Madame," The waiter said smoothly. "Only a tiny drop shall stimulate your taste buds for the entire evening."

"One drop of wine?" Mallory raised an eyebrow.

"Oui Madame," The waiter said.

" **One** drop of wine, for the **whole night**? No refills?" Mallory asked.

"But of course. To have any more would ruin your palate and spoil the sensations you will experience."

To this Mallory pulled out her gun from her purse and pointed it at the waiter. "Give us some real wine and food or else I'm going to go all Waterloo on you!"

Twenty minutes later…

"Why is it that every time I go out with you to somewhere nice, I end up getting **kicked** **out?"** Mallory grumbled. She was sitting in a bar with her arms folded.

"I'm not the one who pulled a gun on a waiter sweetheart," Ron snorted as he ate his large plate of buffalo chicken wings with gusto. He also had a large glass of beer and several other appetizers in front of him.

"Well so much for ever going back to Zenith again," Mallory grumbled as she went to sip her glass of scotch. "We're permanently banned from that restaurant!"

"Such a tragedy," Ron mocked as he ate. "Somehow I'll pick up the shattered pieces of my life and move on."

"I wish you would. Literally…" Mallory snapped. "You realize you cost my agency a potential source of income right? Not to mention ruined any chance I had of ingratiating myself with Joan and her circle!"

"You weren't exactly Ms. Manners yourself," Ron pointed out. "You shoved a woman to the floor just so you could get a better position to kiss Joan's ass. Not to mention you were screaming for wine like it was the last few minutes before Prohibition. And again the gun…"

"I had low blood sugar! All right I admit it! That restaurant was a big pile of con artist crap in a bowl!" Mallory admitted. "Trudy Beekman would starve her fat face in there that's for sure."

"They weren't our kind of people anyway," Ron told her.

"Bunch of air headed hippies with better tailors," Mallory grumbled.

"I'll never forget the look on Joan's face when you pulled that gun," Ron snorted. "She looked like she was frozen in fear!"

"She was. Her new skin isn't used to being stretched out that much so…" Mallory waved. "I guess if you do make a face too long it will freeze that way. After experimental skin surgery at least."

"Did you _really_ think you were gonna get any kind of work from **those people** for your spy agency?" Ron asked.

"It was worth a shot all right?" Mallory snapped. "I just wish I had shot that waiter."

"Your blood sugar is obviously still low. Have a buffalo wing," Ron told her. "Try it."

Mallory reluctantly took one of the Buffalo wings and took a bite. "This is actually good."

"See what happens when you stop being a snob for a few minutes?" Ron smirked.

"Well this food is better than at Zenith's," Mallory continued to eat. "And the portions are better. I'll give you that."

"Just forget about those stuck up snobs and enjoy yourself," Ron said as he ate. "You've been so stressed lately with the business and all."

"I know I have," Mallory sighed. "It's just…I've had that agency so long. I don't know what I'd do if… **Son of a bitch**!"

"What…?" Ron turned around to see what Mallory was looking at. "Is that Sterling?"

Indeed it was Archer at the bar. "Hey bartender! More hot wings!"

"What is he **doing** here? That little…!" Mallory fumed as she got up. "STERLING MALLORY ARCHER!"

"Huh? Oh great!" Archer groaned. He was at the bar with a scotch and a plate of Buffalo wings. "What are **you** doing here?"

"I was going to ask you the **same question**!" Mallory shouted as she stormed up to him. "I **am** asking you the same question!"

"It's Buffalo wing night," Archer said simply. "Is that sauce on your mouth?"

"What I want to hear from your mouth is that you've completed your courier assignment!" Mallory snapped. "Which obviously you haven't!"

"Since when do you come to a bar to eat hot wings?" Archer asked.

"Since your mother got us kicked out of that fancy pants restaurant with the lousy food down the block," Ron spoke up.

"Hey Ron," Archer acknowledged his stepfather. "Which one?"

"The one that's named after a TV set," Ron said.

"There's a restaurant called Sony?" Archer blinked. "What did she do?"

"None of your beeswax mister!" Mallory snapped. "And Ron you weren't exactly Mr. Manners either."

"I'm not the one who threatened a waiter with a gun," Ron said from his seat.

"He wouldn't give you a refill on your wine would he?" Archer asked.

"Yes, but that's not the point!" Mallory snapped.

"She also shoved a woman out of her seat and pretty much insulted everyone at the table," Ron added.

"Damn I would have loved to have seen that!" Pam laughed as she walked over with a huge bucket of hot wings.

"What the hell are **you** doing here?" Mallory shouted.

"It's free Buffalo wing night," Pam shrugged as she munched. "Hey Ron! How's it hanging?"

"Pretty low with the night I had," Ron groaned.

"Don't engage her!" Mallory snapped.

"Hey Pam those hot wings are for all of us!" Ray called out from the table nearby. Cyril, Cheryl and Krieger were there too.

"Yeah quit hogging them Ms. Piggy!" Cheryl called out. "Oh hey Ron!"

"Hi Ron!" Ray, Cyril and Krieger called out.

"Hi ya Gang!" Ron waved.

"Hey Ron come on over to our table!" Pam invited. "Got plenty of room!"

"NO!" Mallory snapped. "This is our date night! And Sterling why are you here with the idiots?"

"I'm not here **with** them. It's just a coincidence," Archer rolled his eyes.

"Is that hot sauce on your mouth?" Pam noticed something on Mallory. "Since when do you like Buffalo wings?"

"That's not important!" Mallory snapped. "Sterling you're supposed to be in Jersey delivering those secret files about the German Embassy to the CIA safe house!"

"Just yell out the mission in a bar Mother," Archer scoffed. " **No one** will notice that!"

"Just answer the question!" Mallory snapped.

"What question was that?" Cheryl asked.

"NOT YOU!" Mallory yelled at Cheryl. "And where's Lana? It seems like you're one idiot short of a village!"

"She's at home with her gross baby daughter," Cheryl scoffed.

"We promised to bring her back some hot wings," Cyril admitted. "Archer shouldn't you be with your daughter?"

"Shouldn't you shut up and burn that hideous sweater vest?" Archer snapped. "Preferably with you in it?"

"We're gonna need more buffalo wings!" Pam shouted. "Come on over Ron!"

"Why not?" Ron walked over with his appetizer plate.

"No! Ron! Don't fraternize with them!" Mallory ordered as he sat down with the gang.

"You started it," Archer pointed out.

"I give you one **simple assignment** ," Mallory gritted her teeth. "One tiny little mission that is so simple a monkey could do it! In fact I think I should hire a monkey because it obviously takes direction better than you!"

"Oh here we go…" Archer threw up his hands.

"Do you **enjoy** making my life miserable?" Mallory asked. "Is that how you get your kicks?"

"Why not? You do that to me all the time!" Archer shot back.

"He does have a point," Pam spoke up.

"Who asked you?" Mallory snapped at Pam.

Then she looked back at Archer. "I can't believe I have to explain this to you again! The CIA pays us money for successful completed missions! Which let's face it, haven't been that much of lately! They don't pay us for missions that are unsuccessful or in your case simply cocked up!"

"But being a delivery boy is so beneath me!" Archer protested.

"I don't care if they want us to deliver **pizzas!** For ten grand you deliver whatever the hell they want!" Mallory barked.

"I thought you said this job pays out three grand?" Archer frowned.

"You're not getting squat until you complete this mission! Damn it Sterling we need that money!" Mallory shouted.

"Especially since her latest networking scheme failed miserably," Ron spoke up.

"Shut up, Ron!" Mallory snapped. She turned to her son. "Do you at least still have the papers on you?"

"Of course I do! The envelope is right…?" Archer looked next to his seat. "Uh oh…"

"Don't tell me…" Mallory growled. "Sterling…"

"I know I had it when I came into the bar," Archer looked around. "At least I think I had it…"

"Oh dear God no…" Mallory winced. "YOU LOST IT!"

"I didn't lose it! I just don't know where it is!" Archer snapped.

"THAT'S THE EXACT DEFINITION OF LOST!" Mallory shouted.

"Hey guys! Has anyone seen an envelope filled with secret files?" Pam shouted out to the bar.

"It's not hard to miss!" Archer shouted. "Long light brown. Full of blue prints and files about the German embassy!"

"Probably highly illegal!" Krieger added.

"WHY DON'T YOU IDIOTS TAKE OUT A PERSONAL AD?" Mallory shouted.

"At this time of night? Kind of late," Cheryl said.

"SHUT UP!" Mallory shouted. "And Sterling how could you lose those papers? So help me if you blow this mission too…"

"I know I had them before I came in," Archer shrugged as he took a sip from his glass.

"Oh yeah this merger with the CIA is really working out for you Mallory," Ron snorted.

"Ron shut up and get away from those people before you catch their crazy!" Mallory shouted. "I order you to go back to our table!"

"You don't order me woman!" Ron shouted. "I'm your husband! Not one of your employees!"

"Fine! All of you leave the bar!" Mallory shouted at her employees.

"We're off the clock!" Pam waved. "Can't tell us what to do!"

"YES I CAN AND I WILL!" Mallory shouted. She turned to her son who was laughing. "WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT?"

"Calm down Mother!" Archer laughed. "You'll give yourself a stroke!"

"I'd rather give you a bullet to the head!" Mallory shouted.

"WE REALLY NEED SOME MORE HOT WINGS HERE!" Pam shouted.

"Yeah who's a girl gotta screw to get some service around here?" Cheryl asked. "Seriously I'm asking because I feel a little horny."

"How horny?" Cyril asked.

"Hey how's about you folks keep it down?" The bartender shouted.

"I don't take orders from a glorified waiter!" Mallory snapped. She then slapped the drink out of Archer's hand, spilling the contents on the floor and breaking the glass.

"Mother!" Archer gasped.

"Hey!" The bartender snapped.

"WHAT?" Mallory growled. "I'm a customer! What are you going to do about it? You keep annoying me and I'll complain to your boss!"

"Actually Mallory…He's the owner," Cyril winced.

"Oh…" Mallory frowned.

Three minutes later…

"AND DON'T COME BACK!" The bartender shouted as the gang left the bar to the cheering of the patrons. "OR I'LL CALL THE COPS!"

"WHO WOULD WANT TO COME BACK TO THIS HELL HOLE ANYWAY?" Mallory shouted as she gave a middle finger to the bartender.

"Well this is the **second restaurant** you got us kicked out of tonight, Mallory," Ron said acidly to his wife. "And this place I actually liked!"

"And we didn't get any hot wings to go!" Pam complained as they started to walk down the street.

"Where's the bucket you had?" Ray asked.

"I threw it at the guys who threw us out," Pam admitted. "I think I got hot sauce in the eye of one of 'em."

"Oh shut up!" Mallory glared. "You just know this is all going to go back to Trudy Beekman somehow and she'll have more to bitch about!"

"Hang on I want to check my car," Archer looked inside his car parked on the street.

"It's in a handicapped spot you asshole!" Ray groaned. "And why am I surprised at this?"

"Hey I found the documents!" Archer waved a long brown envelope. "It was in my car the whole time! So there Mother! You had nothing to worry about!"

"Can I see 'em?" Pam asked.

"Yeah I'd like to see what the German Embassy looks like," Krieger said.

"I don't think that's such a good idea y'all," Ray frowned.

"Especially if we're called as witnesses for the prosecution," Cyril added.

"Oh you say that all the time!" Archer waved as he started to open the envelope. "It hasn't happened yet!"

"There's always a first time," Cyril said.

"Sterling you're not seriously opening classified documents in the middle of the street?" Mallory shouted.

"Well you kind of got us kicked out of the bar," Archer said as he opened it. "So thank you very much Mother! Geeze can't you at least try to act professional for once in your life? Now let's see what these secret documents are all about?"

"Oh dear God I raised the King of the Morons," Mallory groaned.

"Uh oh…" Archer frowned as he took out a simple piece of paper.

"What do you mean by 'uh oh'?" Cyril asked. "It's never good when you say 'uh oh'!"

"Uh…" Archer tried to hide the paper. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea? I think I'll just…"

"Let me see that!" Pam grabbed the paper from Archer.

"HEY!" Archer protested.

"It's a note," Pam said. "Dear CIA Sucker. Thanks for making it easy for me to steal the files. Sincerely…I'm not telling you my name because I'm a professional spy, unlike you!"

"WHAT? STERLING MALLORY ARCHER WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Mallory shouted. She then attacked her son and started wailing on him.

"OW! OW! OW!" Mother!" Archer went down on the ground and tried to protect himself. "WHAT IS IN YOUR PURSE? LEAD BARS?"

"I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN YOU'D BLOW THIS LIKE YOU BLOW EVERYTHING ELSE!" Mallory shouted as she kept hitting him. "OR SHOULD I SAY EVERYONE ELSE!"

"OW! MOTHER! PHRASING!" Archer yelled as he tried to defend himself with very little success.

"Oh man this is great! I gotta put this on my website!" Pam laughed as she took out her phone and started to film it.

"Get him good Ms. Archer! Hit him! HIT HIM!" Cyril shouted with glee.

Cheryl was jumping up and down clapping her hands with glee. "HE HE HE HE!"

"He's not putting up much of a fight is he?" Pam snickered. "He must really be into this!"

"Me too!" Cheryl cheered.

"I'd be lying if I said this didn't make my night!" Cyril agreed.

"Ms. Archer would you consider being a participant in my shock bum fights?" Krieger called out. "You get to beat up the lower class!"

"Come on y'all we gotta get out of here before someone calls the cops!" Ray looked around.

"YOU WORTHLESS…STUPID…ARROGANT…" Mallory screamed as she wailed on her son.

"MOTHER! OWW! OWWW! MOTHER!"

"YAYYYY!" Cheryl cheered. "ME NEXT! ME NEXT!"

"DON'T TEMPT ME!" Mallory shouted at her.

"Guys we're attracting a lot of attention from the bar!" Ray noticed. Then he heard a siren coming closer. "Dukes!"

"Cops! Better make a run for it!" Pam shouted.

"Uh oh! Definitely don't want the police to catch me again! Not after last time!" Krieger gulped. "SMOKE BOMB!" He threw an imaginary smoke bomb and ran off.

"YAY! HEY!" Cheryl yelped as Cyril grabbed her arm. "OW!"

"Come on Cheryl!" Cyril shouted as the other agency members ran off.

"Hey! Stop dragging me! It kind of hurts!" Cheryl protested as Cyril dragged her away. "No wait! I changed my mind! Keep dragging me Cyril! Drag me until my arms pull out of their sockets! HA HA HA HA!"

"Most people who work at a spy agency train by running marathons!" Ray groaned. "We train by running from the **police**!"

"Oh Trudy Beekman is definitely going to **love** hearing about tonight," Ron groaned as a cop car rounded the corner. "And as usual I'm the one who will have to clean up Mallory's mess. Or at the very least make sure she and Sterling don't end up in jail."

"What? Can't a mother discipline her own son anymore?" Mallory snapped as a police officer tried to restrain her. "Get your hands off me!"

"Oww…I have an owie…" Archer moaned as he lay on the ground.

"Hey someone parked a car in a handicapped space without any plates!" An officer spoke up. "Better ticket it."

Ron groaned. "The irony is this has been one of our better dates."


End file.
